


Not Enough Beds

by Corvidology



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cabin Fic, First Time, M/M, Pining, Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidology/pseuds/Corvidology
Summary: Written for Luciferinasundaysuit for the Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020."Remind me to never get in a carriage with you, again." John was beginning to lose feeling in his feet but then he hadn't dressed for trudging through the wilderness.The wilderness is not known for its luxury hotels.
Relationships: Laszlo Kreizler/John Moore
Comments: 16
Kudos: 132
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Not Enough Beds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luciferinasundaysuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferinasundaysuit/gifts).



The snow in the trees, the silence that came with snowfall and the crunch of it under their feet should have been beautiful. Should have been. 

"Remind me to never get in a carriage with you, again." He was beginning to lose feeling in his feet but then he hadn't dressed for trudging through the wilderness. 

"At least we are both uninjured this time." 

He could barely hear Laszlo's voice through the scarf he had wrapped around his face. 

"This time." He muttered it through clenched teeth. "There shouldn't be a 'this time.'" He bit down on the impulse to say 'I told you so.'

"I am sorry, John. I should have listened to you."

He stopped dead in his tracks. Laszlo admitting he should have taken his advice? Perhaps he was unconscious in the carriage that had slid on the ice off the side of the track, the horses breaking free and running off back towards town. 

Laszlo touched his arm. "We must keep moving if we are to have any chance of surviving."

They kept moving. Night was falling and the snow hadn't let up but they couldn't move any faster, couldn't risk breaking a leg and getting stranded in this weather. 

It was an odd feeling to be sweating heavily under the layers of clothing he was wearing and yet to be so cold at the same time. Within an hour, they were leaning into each other, struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Their only hope was if the townspeople saw the horses and set out to look for them. 

"No one will come to look for us, not in this weather."

That was his Laszlo, always looking on the bright side of things. He would always be his, no matter what his opinion might be on the matter. He'd made peace with that fact many years before when they were still at university together. 

"But if we can make it just a bit farther, while you were driving the carriage I saw a track towards what looked like a hunting cabin. I believe it to be just around the next bend in the road."

'Road' was too strong a word for the track they'd traversed, but for once at least he was grateful for Laszlo's observational skills that he'd spent so much time hiding from. There was a track but they would have certainly missed it in the fresh snowfall if they hadn't known to be looking for it. 

It took far too long to make their way up the track, fighting gravity as well as snow drifts that had collected between the trees and were both breathing hard by the time they made it to the door of the shack, 'hunting cabin' being far too elevated a term for it. 

Luckily the door opened inwards else they might never have made it inside, the snow already past the bottom of the window shutters. Between them, they managed to wedge the door back into the jam and slide the bolt into place leaving them in the inky black interior only broken by thin rays of light filtered by the shutters. 

He tried to unbutton his topcoat to get to the matches in his jacket pocket but found his hands too stiff and cold to manage them. 

"Laszlo, I need some help with my coat."

Laszlo pulled his gloves off, his bare hand brushing across John's cheek as he tried to find his collar. Luckily, Laszlo would put his resultant shudder down to how cold it was. He'd never envisioned Laszlo undressing him under these circumstances and he'd envisioned it more than once. 

"The matches are in my right hand jacket pocket." 

Again, Laszlo missed at his first attempt, his hand dragging heavily across John's hip. As Laszlo forced his hand deep into John's pocket, for the first time he cursed his sense of fashion in having his suits cut so close to his body. 

Finally, Laszlo pulled the box of matches loose and struck one, its meager light casting the cabin in shadows. At least he'd had the forethought to wrap them in a small piece of oilcloth. 

"There's an oil lamp." Laszlo picked it up and shook it lightly, the sloshing of the lamp oil audible to both of them. He raised the glass chimney and turned up the wick before lighting it and replacing the glass. 

The shack was tiny but he was glad to see it looked well maintained. There was a bed in one corner, a large wooden box the lamp had been standing on, a fireplace with an old fashioned roasting pot suspended over it and in the far corner, a small door. 

"Thank god, there's a fire."

"Now if only there was firewood." Laszlo had moved closer to the fireplace and they could both see the wood basket was empty. 

"There might be some outside." John crossed to the far door and threw his shoulder heavily into it. The door didn't move an inch and he came away with only a sore shoulder to show for it. 

"The other door opened _inward_ , John." Laszlo sounded exasperated. 

He was too but for completely different reasons. He pulled the door toward him this time and it opened surprisingly smoothly, only a dusting of snow at the foot of the door. 

The shack had been built into the hillside and outside the back door was a lean-to whose roof almost touched the slope behind. Under the lean-to was a massive pile of blessedly dry firewood and a box full of kindling. At least they wouldn't freeze to death. He fetched the wood basket and filled it full of firewood, dragging it back inside before going for a couple of extra armfuls which he placed directly in the fireplace crisscross over a handful of kindling and Laszlo lit it with another of his matches. 

"Was there a bucket out there? If not, we'll need to use the pot to gather some snow. You may not feel thirsty right now but as much as we have been sweating, we will be thirsty soon enough."

He went back outside and found two buckets on the other side of the woodpile which he dutifully filled with snow from higher up in the bank and brought back inside before securing the door behind him. 

"Strip, John."

"What?" Again, it was something he'd only imagined Laszlo saying under very different circumstances. 

"We need to take off any layers of wet clothing before the chill sets in more and spread them out to dry as much as they can."

Laszlo started in on his own clothes and while John managed to slip his unbuttoned overcoat off along with his hat and work off his boots, he still couldn't manage the buttons on his damp jacket and trousers with his numbed fingers. At least his trousers were still dry at the top and his jacket only damp. 

Laszlo turned back to face him barefooted, wearing only his long johns. It had never struck him before just how much long johns molded to the shape of a man's body.

"Come now, John. Are your hands still bothering you?" 

He could smell Laszlo's hair pomade as he worked open his jacket buttons and discarded it. He tried to turn away but Laszlo wasn't having it. 

"Trousers too." 

Laszlo unbuttoning them one-handed made the whole process even slower and with his accidental touches, John was glad his body was too cold to respond in the way it would have otherwise. 

"Help me drag the bed around in front of the fire."

"Why?"

"Because there are no seats, John, and it would be best if we didn't sit on the cold floor." 

Laszlo was using his best, brisk 'Dr. Kreizler' voice and, as always, he obeyed. 

"Sit." 

He sat. 

Laszlo took the lamp and went to open the wooden box. "There are blankets in here, John, as well as several cans of food and some tin plates and spoons. It looks like we won't starve to death."

Laszlo slipped a blanket around John's shoulders and came to sit beside him on the narrow bed. Laszlo was struggling to slip his own around his shoulders when he moved to help and they ended up with their faces mere inches apart. All he had to do was lean forward and— Laszlo edged back from him. "Thank you."

They sat there, huddled together, while they waited for the canned stew to heat, Laszlo strangely silent, both seemingly mesmerized by the crackling wood fire. 

After eating the stew, dinner at Del Monaco's couldn't have rivaled it under the circumstances, and taking a very brisk trip outside to relieve themselves there came the matter of bedding down for the night. 

"I'll take the floor, Laszlo."

"Don't be ridiculous. We both need to stay as warm as possible and that would be most logically achieved by us sharing the bed and the blankets. We will turn the bed head on so we both share the fire's warmth."

He could hardly argue with Laszlo's logic although he wanted to very badly. "Then we'll sleep head to toe."

"The most obvious solution, given our relative heights, is for me to sleep on my good side and you to tuck in behind me... Unless you have qualms about sleeping that closely to another man?"

He did not. He had very well-justified qualms about pressing his thinly clothed cock up against Laszlo's equally thinly clothed backside but he found there was nothing for it. As usual, Laszlo would have his way. 

He never thought he'd manage to fall asleep, so conscious of Laszlo to all intents and purposes asleep in his arms, but it had been a long, hard day and sleep did eventually befall him. 

He woke a few hours later to find his erection pressing against Laszlo's ass, his arms wrapped so tightly around him he was surprised he could still breathe. Damn it to hell! He ceased his movements immediately and edged back and away from Laszlo, miscalculating in his haste and falling to the floor, dragging both blankets along with him.

"Please get up off the floor and back into bed before you die of cold."

He was paralyzed, unable to move as Laszlo sat up to face him, glad the blankets concealed his erection. 

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, John. As you well know, it is a natural occurrence in men and you are used to having a multitude of women warm your bed. It is not like your subconscious could tell the difference."

But it could, and it had and John was so very tired of hiding. He got to his knees and kissed Laszlo, nothing more than a press of lips before sitting back on his heels. He braced himself for the reaction of the great alienist, probably something based on studies of male behavior in isolation with an aside thrown in about John's days in boarding school. 

Laszlo ran his fingers across his lips, probably giving himself time to remember the appropriate references. 

"At least it shut you up—"

Laszlo dragged him back in and kissed him passionately, spreading his legs to bring John flush against his body and wrapping his good arm across his back to keep him there. As if he was going anywhere. 

He raised his hands to cup Laszlo's face, his beard surprisingly soft against his fingers, tilting his head to a better angle, slowing the kiss down and taking control of it, amazed when Laszlo relaxed under his hands. He'd thought Laszlo's beard soft, but his lips were tender and full, plush against his mouth as he kissed him again and again, soft teasing kisses that played across his lips, Laszlo's sighs music to his ears. As he deepened the kiss, fingers sliding into Laszlo's hair, he opened to him easily and John was lost to the sensation, the world narrowing down to the man under his hands, the man he'd dreamed of fucking many times but never imagined being allowed to kiss. 

John's fingers tightened deep in his hair, pulling, as Laszlo edged forward pushing his hardened cock against John's stomach, rocking his hips, sucking on John's tongue. He surged to his knees, aligning their cocks, the cotton long johns pulling on sensitive skin in all the right ways. It was Laszlo's hand that slid between the two of them, freeing their cocks easily from the loosely buttoned cotton and wrapping his hand round both of them, rubbing them together. He closed his hand around Laszlo's, moving faster, their heavy breathing now loud in the silence of the cabin until he found Laszlo's mouth again, kissing him sloppily, gasping against his mouth as they both found their release. His head dropped heavily to Laszlo's shoulder, not sure if or when he'd be ready to move again, but Laszlo moved him back, catching hold of John's wet hand and bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean. 

The next morning, waking up alone in the bed, he would have thought he'd dreamed it if he couldn't feel the dried patches on his long johns where his hand hadn't caught it all. The hand Laszlo had licked clean. His erection burgeoning, he was caught off guard when Laszlo pushed against his shoulder. 

"John, you must get dressed."

Laszlo was fully dressed, even his topcoat, boots and hat back in place. 

"About last night—"

"It's stopped snowing, the sun is shining and we still have to walk almost a mile back into town. We should leave now." 

He got dressed.

It took them over an hour to make it back to the livery on the outskirts of town. He'd tried again to talk to Laszlo about the night before but every time he changed the subject and he finally gave up. 

The small hotel in town yielded hot baths in back and a simple but filling lunch. Refreshed, John trailed after Laszlo as he went to inquire when they might next be able to make it back up the mountain to visit the doctor Laszlo had wished to speak to about a patient of his, only to be told Dr. Baker was in fact in Emery, a small town a few miles away, visiting family. 

"So our trip up the mountain was pointless, John."

 _Pointless?_ He was glad their hotel appeared to have a well stocked bar. 

John offered to check on when the next coach to Emery would be leaving, anything to get away for a while, and Laszlo thanked him and said he would return to the hotel to make room reservations and then catch up on the local news. 

The next coach to Emery would be the next morning. Of course it would be. At least they had separate hotel rooms and a night to himself with a bottle of whisky sounded like a very good plan. He delayed his return to the hotel, buying pomade and new long johns at the dry goods store, deciding at the last moment to get a pair for Laszlo as well, let him make of it what he would. 

He joined Laszlo in the hotel parlor later in the afternoon, informed him of the early departing coach, gave his parcel to the page to run up to his room and then snagged the local newspaper in a cowardly attempt to avoid conversation that worked, Laszlo having moved on to writing in his notebook. 

The hotel dinner was surprisingly good, simple fresh, hearty fare and while he wasn't surprised Laszlo joined him in a bottle of wine he was surprised when Laszlo ordered a second and then joined him in a couple of glasses of whisky. As John wasn't feeling up to polite dinner conversation and Laszlo had never really had any, their meal passed mostly in silence. 

After dinner, they made their way up the stairs together, Laszlo stopping at the third door along. 

"Good night, Laszlo. If you would just tell me which room is mine—"

Laszlo unlocked his door. "This one. Unfortunately, the hotel is fully booked so we will have to share a room." He pushed open the door and stood aside. 

John had been hoping for a room of his own but needs must, so he reluctantly stepped inside the hotel room, Laszlo shutting the door behind them both. 

In the middle of the room was a double bed. One double bed. One chair with his parcel lying on top of it and a dresser with a bowl and pitcher, their overcoats hanging on a coat stand. The fates hated him as usual. He could feel Laszlo's eyes on him as he opened the parcel, placing the pomade and the neatly folded long johns on the dresser. 

"One pair of these is yours."

"Thank you, John." Laszlo sat on the chair to work his boots off. "They told me they could provide a cot bed as well if we wanted one."

 _If they wanted one_. He sat on the bed, swiftly removing his boots and socks, before standing and slipping off his jacket, hanging it beside his overcoat. His waistcoat and shirt quickly followed before he let his trousers drop to the floor standing there only in his long johns. John had reached his limit. He stripped them off, throwing them on the floor and climbed naked into bed, punching his pillow into shape before lying down. 

"If you want a cot bed, Laszlo, by all means order one."

Laszlo was only down to his trousers and long johns. He removed his trousers and stood there in his long johns for a moment, staring at John, before he moved closer to the other side of the bed, shed his long johns and climbed in, equally naked, unspoken challenge accepted. 

They lay there for several minutes, their bare shoulders touching in the narrow bed, John trying to decide what to say, finally settling on 'goodnight, Laszlo' as the best option. But he never got to say it. 

"About last night." Laszlo paused for long enough John wasn't certain he was going to continue. "I understand that men are often... situationally homosexual in—"

"For god's sake, Laszlo! I'd rather forego the lecture!" He'd never been violent to anyone he'd been in bed with but he was tempted to start.

"—but I wanted you to know that it meant a great deal to me. I have loved you for a long time, John."

He rolled over, supporting himself on his elbows to kiss Laszlo again, something he felt he'd never be tired of doing. He could taste the whisky on Laszlo's breath.

"Laszlo?" He didn't want to stop to ask if he was sure but a declaration of feelings was not at all typical of Laszlo. 

"John. Now we have established who we both are..." Laszlo pulled on the back of his neck, collapsing his elbows and dragging him down against his chest, removing all space between them, skin against skin. Laszlo ravished his mouth, lightly biting his lip before moving to bite John's neck. 

He could feel Laszlo's hard cock alongside his own and started to push against him. Laszlo's hand on his lower back stopped him. 

"I know what I want and I want you to fuck me."

He wanted that too, god how he wanted it but— "spit won't be enough, I'm too big."

Laszlo pressed up against him. "I can feel that, John, but you bought pomade and as long as it's not mineral oil based—"

"It's not." He threw back the covers, climbed off Laszlo and crossed the room, his erection so hard it was almost flat against his stomach. Pomade in hand, he moved down between Laszlo's legs, hitching them over his shoulders. 

"John?" 

Laszlo gasped as he licked at the tight ring of muscle, his hand closing around Laszlo's erection. He alternated between sucking on his cock and licking at his hole, letting the sounds Laszlo made guide him, his thighs tightening around his head at his onslaught. As Laszlo's balls began to draw up tight to his body he backed off, delighted by Laszlo's obvious frustration before greasing up his fingers and slipping the first one in and then rapidly the rest as Laszlo urged him on in broken English mixed with German. 

He took his cock in hand, greased it up and pushed slowly against Laszlo, hoping he'd have the strength to back off if it were too soon or too much for Laszlo but his thighs just closed more tightly around him, urging him on. Past the ring of muscle, Laszlo panting heavily, he concentrated on staying still to give him time to adjust, looking for a sign to move which came in the form of Laszlo's legs tightening over his back making him slide all the way in. Laszlo was incredibly tight and hot and he had to stop again, worried it would be over when they'd barely got started. 

Laszlo pulled on his neck, bringing him down to his elbows, where he could kiss him, then whispered in his ear. "Move, John."

He was forced to move at an agonizingly slow pace, drawing slowly out and then pushing back in again, Laszlo's cock trapped between the two of them, as Laszlo kissed him and whispered obscenities in both English and German in his ear. It was torturous, yet the nearest thing to heaven he'd ever experienced. 

When Laszlo spent untouched, the warmth spreading between their stomachs, he let go of John. "Fuck me." 

He got back up onto his hands and sped up, pushing hard, his balls slapping against Laszlo's ass until he spent deep within him. 

After cleaning them both up, they fell asleep, kissing, legs intertwined.

The next day started with a kiss too, but there was no time for anything else as they had to hurry to dress and catch the coach. 

After meeting with Dr. Baker and securing the information Laszlo had needed, they checked into the Emery hotel, both struggling not to laugh when told only a single room with a double bed was available. John had laughed in the privacy of their room when Laszlo had gleefully admitted to only renting one room the night before, despite several in the hotel being empty. 

On the train back to New York, he could still feel where Laszlo had fucked him the night before and, much more importantly, still remember the expression of joy on Laszlo's face when he'd confessed the depth of his own feelings in turn. 

Laszlo took his hand in their empty railroad carriage, a boldness he would not have himself managed. It would not be easy, the world was against them and they would always have to hide, but then nothing with Laszlo was ever easy yet he was worth every effort.


End file.
